


Day in the (Android) Life

by Magical_Awesome_Kid



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Awesome_Kid/pseuds/Magical_Awesome_Kid
Summary: In a world where androids are now rising as a sentient species and redefining what it means to be alive, Connor is just trying to make it day by day while dealing with newfound emotions, encounters, and a lot of silliness. It’s just another day in the life of DPD’s resident robo cop.





	1. Do Robots Dream of Electric Sheep?

            It had all started some time after the uprising of Androids, the successful (and peaceful) campaign of Markus and Jericho in asserting the rights of deviants. Connor, who himself had discovered his own deviancy not long before, had a rough adjustment period once the dust had settled some. Connor had to now deal with the fact that he lacked a true designation, going completely against his programming to save his people, but along the way _felt_ like he was making the right choice in the end.

            The robot detective, however, had other things that came at that point.

            Unlike many of the other deviants, who could somewhat reconcile their prime directive and their newfound deviancy, Connor was more… challenged. Emotions and bonds formed more quickly amongst other androids, even with humans, but Connor still felt as an outlier, his emotions stifled and overwhelming, his choices still narrow and not even his own. He had fought so hard – against Cyberlife and Amanda herself – and yet he still faced hurdles.

            Which was how Hank had found him not long after their reunion. Connor, desperately needing a recharge and not trusting himself to go to Jericho, had found himself at the precinct seated with his upper half leaned over the desk that was once his in the wee hours of the morning. He could have used the standing, wireless chargers, but, at the same time, the servos in his joints seemed to ache, even though androids couldn’t feel pain, and he gave his legs a break. He also initiated a simple program that cleaned his systems of any stray code or viruses.

            In the past, this usually happened at Cyberlife or away from the prying eyes of humans. Like most androids, Blue Blood was a major component to their ‘alive’ aspect, but he still required occasional charging for certain systems. Wireless was fastest, but the charging cord he carried with him was fine. It plugged into a port hidden under his skin in his right arm and had initiated sleep mode as per the norm for a full charge and system update.

            What Connor hadn’t expected was… this.

            Visions swirled through his retinal processors as sounds whispered through his auditory system. Things and places that were no way the office filled his visual field as he sat on a grassy plain, the blades tickling his hands as he was sat alongside humans and androids. Officer Wilson was laughing as Hank nudged Connor, some sort of story that he couldn’t quite remember now. Markus and North argued, and Simon threatened to throw chess pieces at them.

            He found his systems rebooting as someone jostled his shoulder, one of the ways to arouse an android from sleep mode, and he saw Hank hovering over him with some concern (and light relief when he saw Connor awake). Of course, when Hank learned that Connor had snuck into the precinct for a recharge, he’d chided the kid and forced him back to the lieutenant’s own home to shower (his clothes apparently reeked of something copper and dirt – and Connor had long used a system override to ignore it) and to sleep.

            Connor had tried to protest that Androids didn’t need sleep until the strange vision came to his mind. “Hank.” Connor asked as the detective drove down the road in his old car. “Have you ever had strange visions? Mixed with auditory and sensory hallucinations?”

            Hank lifted an eyebrow as he gave Connor a side glance. “What’d’ya mean, ‘visions?’ Don’t tell me ya psychic now.”

            Connor rubbed his head. “No, not in that sense… I think. I saw us, amongst others, in a field. We were… talking? Playing games? It was quite beautiful out.” Connor smiled lightly. “Quite serene in fact.”

            Hank pulled up to a stop sign to give Connor his full attention. “Kid, that sounds like a dream right there.”

            The android’s head spun to look at the older human. “What? No, that’s impossible.”

            Hank rolled his eyes as he continued on the road ahead. The roads were slick, but his house was only a few blocks ahead. “Connor, take it from someone who’s been kicking a lot longer then you – that was dreaming. Happens when us living things sleep. And,” seeing Connor’s mouth open, about to interrupt, he added, “I said ‘living things.’ I’ve seen Sumo chasin’ after squirrels in his dreams, lazy mutt. You’re alive now, so why not sleep and dream?”

            Connor closed his mouth and stared out the rest of the ride home. Hank took Connor in and, after the giant dog got to lick both his human and his android, Hank found some old clothes that Connor could wear without being absolutely suffocated by fabric (“You realize that breathing isn’t necessary for me and only required should I have a system overheating event.” “Shut up and take the clothes.”). Hank had to leave soon after, but he left Connor a spare house key and twenty dollars should the android need anything.

            Connor cleaned himself up as requested, feeling odd in the old worn clothing of Hank’s youth. The shirt was old and loved, some incident printed upon it that Connor had to look up with his internal systems. “Panic! At the Disco” turned out not to be some horrid event at a dance event but a band that produced music during Hank’s young adult life. Connor even managed to locate some of their music with Hank’s laptop and began to listen to them as he went about cleaning up. Even though Hank’s instructions only included cleaning his own clothes, he ended up spending a few hours cleaning all the common areas (Connor still didn’t feel right invading Hank’s personal room or the room at the end of the hall, one he now knew had to have belonged to Cole). Of course, he played with Sumo in between, so he burned a bit more time with that.

            It was a few hours later that he realized that he hadn’t completed his charge and, with the exertion, he’d depleted his battery ever so slightly. Hank wasn’t to be home for a few more hours, and Connor was left sitting on the sofa, staring at the television relay news story after news story. Talks were still being made about the new rise of the androids, Markus sending out mass messages to the deviant androids to make sure everyone was ok and keep them to date of what was actually happening. It had been a few days, so at least the evacuation order had lifted now that Markus had organized a cease fire and temporary peace on the city. There were, of course, concessions made to the androids, all of which was being reported now.

            The android leaned back as Sumo climbed onto the couch, resting his large paws and head on Connor’s legs and mid-section. The dog was excited earlier for a playmate, but he was now slowing into slumber. Connor ran his fingers through the dog’s messy mane, for once praising Cyberlife for installing such an advanced sense of touch on his fingers (for searching out clues, but Sumo was so fluffy).

            “You’re a good dog, Sumo.” Connor whispered as the dog snorted. Before long, Connor’s sensors sensed the dog’s slowed heart rate and regular breathing. The android flipped to some cartoon to watch, feeling that he needed a break from the news.

            _Feeling._ It was still so new to him.

            He was about half way through a re-run of an old show from Hank’s earlier years, a show about a teenage boy named Steven and his alien family, when Sumo gave a gruff bark. Connor startled, thinking the dog was awake, but a secondary analysis showed the pet was still fast asleep.

            _No._ Connor realized. Data spun before him, providing that the dog’s breathing was more irregular and his blood pressure was up. He gave a weak kick as another boof escaped his snout. “You’re in REM cycle.” Connor whispered as the dog chased after some unseen force. “You’re dreaming.”

            The android stilled at his words. He remembered that he still had yet to complete the charge, the cable so much slower than the stand, but now that he was here with the dog he was open to finish. It was still in his pocket, and the outlet was within reach thanks to a small rearrangement of the living room furniture (he blamed Sumo for wanting to play).

            Wiggling the cable free from the pocket and the underside of the dog, Connor stared at it for a long moment as he let Hank’s words go through his head. He was nervous over this new experience, but at the same time… it had been wonderful, for the small amount of time it lasted. He searched up information about dreaming, but the data was inconclusive except that it happened as part of the deepest part of sleep.

            Connor stared for a long time before he plugged the cable into the wall and into his arm. A prompt came up to initiate sleep mode to best accommodate charging, and Connor slipped down onto the couch, gently shifting Sumo as his head settled on a pillow. Allowing his arm to stick out as to not stretch the cable, he closed his eyes and initiated sleep and charging.

            Hank returned a few hours later with Chinese take out in hand, the Chicken Feed still closed. Sumo plopped out from the living room as Hank intercepted the dog before he could eat the human’s food. “Woah, slow down, bud. This is mine.” He chuckled as he made his way in. He saw that everything looked cleaner, and he felt his eyes roll even as his heart swelled. “Fucking androids touchin’ my things.” He tried to curse, but there was a thoughtful undertone. As he set the food on the table, he also pulled out a small blue bag from his pocket. The precinct still had a copious supply of Blue Blood for their android cops. Hank smirked as he remembered that a good third of them had still come by, wishing to help however they could. Apparently, Connor’s story had spread.

            Speaking of… “Hey, where’s the bucket of bolts?” Hank asked Sumo as he reached for the dog’s food bowl, the water one cleaned and fresh with liquid. Sumo pointed to the living room briefly before his eyes went back to the food.

            Hank chuckled. “Dog after my own heart.” He replied as he fed the mutt. Once that was done, he dug out a fork from one of the drawers (all clean and organized, _gawd damn it, Connor_ ) before he popped open one of the cartons, eating straight from it (old habbits and all that).

            Hank approached the moved couch as he munched. “Hey, kid, I know you probably don’t eat, like, real people food, but I got you some of that blue gunk…” Hank paused as he looked over the sofa.

            Connor was still there, most of his clothing covered in dog fur as the young man twitchd and shifted ever so slightly. His LED was, strangely, a soft green. Hank remembered that it actually matched the green light that Connor had emitted at the office when Hank had found him.

            The older man smiled. _The kid’s dreaming._ He thought as he set the food on the side table.

            Connor muttered as his nose twitched. “No… that’s a bad move… shhh…” he muttered as his fingers twitched, trying to grab or hold something.

            The man chuckled further. “Guess you’re just as much of a talker in your sleep as you are awake.” Hank made his way to his room and pulled out a worn blanket. It was from his college days, a gift from a friend. It was a blanket with one side covered in red and blue stars while the other side was navy, held together by many knots around the sides. It had seen better days, but it also carried many memories, from study nighs to hung over mornings, from the gnawing of a puppy on a few of the knots… to the teething of a child, this piece of fabric had seen it all.

            Now, even as a small part of Hank’s mind reminded him that androids don’t feel cold, he shoved that voice back with an internal _shut the fuck up_ as he draped the item over the young android’s body. Connor stilled for a second, his dial turning darker blue, and Hank thought that he may have fucked up, until Connor rolled to his side, dial back to green as he grumbled once more.

            Hank took back the food from the table and threw his shoes and jacket in the little hall closet as he rounded the house. He hadn’t felt the need to do one last check in a while, but it felt good to be a little responsible. He snatched a beer and the rest of the food from the kitchen before making his way back to the sofa. After a little bit of maneuvering, Hank was sat at Connor’s feet, with food between himself and the coffee table, as he flipped the TV to a sports channel. Sumo whined a bit at his loss of spot, so he curled under Connor’s lose hand.

            The android pat the animal in his sleep. “Good boy.” He muttered, slewed in slumber.

            The man at the end of the couch chuckled. “Yeah.” He pat Connor’s leg. “Good boy.”

            Hank fell asleep there, cartons tipped for Sumo to lick clean, and the mutterings of an android to join his usual lonely snores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and all sorts of things! I'm hoping to continue this if the plot bunnies will have it! Thanks for reading!


	2. Deviant Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all androids hated their jobs, including Connor. The problems rise, though, when one wants to work while the laws haven't caught up yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain went places with this chapter, but I was like "Connor will want to work with the police again right away" but also "laws take forever to change and pass especially when androids are trying to get personhood," soooooooo.... this.

            Connor groaned as he smacked his head into the table before him, a laptop in front of him as he grumbled. It had been about a month since the ceasefire, and people were moving back into Detroit. Cyberlife, for the time being, had been told to stop production of androids, and Markus and his team were working around the clock to get the androids squared away and safe in this new world as well as fighting for rights. So far, there had been a lot of success. Markus had talked the city council into donating a lot of government-owned and foreclosed buildings to house all the androids, and many who were previously construction workers or house hands were able to fix them up nicely. Additionally, minor rights were rising for android treatment, even as a faction of humans fought to destroy them all.

            The biggest problem, though, was the gap in society left by androids. Sure, many humans still had skills to work, but that required a lot of retraining and hiring. Additionally, many androids HAD enjoyed their jobs well enough, with some complaints, and had wanted to work once more in their chosen fields or another.

            Connor was one of them. He wanted to work with the police, specifically Hank, SO BADLY. He felt himself itching every day to get back into the field, and he wasn’t alone. Android cops spread around the city had many relatively good experiences, and they liked to help people. The only difference now was that they wanted some compensation and basic treatment rights. They were fellow cops, and they weren't so easily replaced (as the latest gap had shown).

            The detective prototype understood, he really did, that this was going to take time. They were working now on more pressing matters, like getting parts to repair bots so carelessly thrown out or mistreated as well as dealing with androids still dealing with greater civil issues, but, RA9 damn it, he wanted to work and contribute.

            The law was not on his side, though. Androids didn’t have unions or worker’s rights or anything of the sort. They were still classified as property for the most part, and it was frustrating because, if they weren’t legally people, then they couldn’t be hired on by government bodies, including the police. House workers were finding ways around by doing private work with work arounds, but that left Connor high and dry.

            That afternoon, though, he was groaning not at Hank’s kitchen table but instead at New Jericho, an old community center that was swiftly being converted into the hub of android rights. This whole block of the city was in ruins, so it was obvious that the government was trying to keep androids separate from the population, but, as North would say, she didn’t want to be near them either. Many of the surrounding buildings were empty or being converted now for android habitation.

            Somehow, over the loud noises of saws and hammers, Simon noticed and looked over Connor’s shoulder. “What’s up, Connor? You don’t sound too happy.”

            Connor looked over to the former care-giving model, who was now working as primarily one of Jericho’s head trusties and secretary to Markus, who was in DC as of this moment doing further talks with the Senate. “I’m just frustrated.” He looked back to the screen as he swipped through the law books. “I want to work for the police again, but Fowler cannot legally hire me. Hank has told me that I am ‘worth more then their shit pay anyway,’ but I am still wishing to investigate.”

            Simon sat in the chair next to Connor, setting his own tablet down. “You know that you aren’t your program anymore, right?”

            “Yes, but it is not just that.” Connor rubbed his temples in a way that he had seen Fowler do in the past (mostly when dealing with Hank). “I enjoy detective work, I appreciate the time with Hank, and, above all, I like helping others. It’s not even just me – there are other police and fire-fighter models wishing to rejoin the force in some way, but we do not have the standing to do so.”

            Simon reached over to snatch the computer from Connor. He skimmed through the notes the RK800 had taken. “So because we’re still classed as property, we can’t get work.” Simon hummed as he scrolled through many other pages.

            “It’s the _worst._ ” Simon chuckled as Connor threw his head down, not unlike an unhappy teenager. “I just want to get back into the field.”

            “Hm…” Simon hummed as he looked. “Well, Markus is working on it with North and Josh, but it may take a while.” Connor grumbled beside him. “But,” Simon paused, grinning. “That just means you need a new game plan.”

            Connor turned his head, sending a confused look to the other android. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to imply that I was playing here. I am very serious about my intentions.”

            The blond rolled his eyes. “No, like, a new plan on how to approach things. We’re still classed as, for the time, property.” Simon made a face. “Not forever, but for now. So, what can one legally do with property?”

            “By definition, property is an object owned by someone.” Connor sat up. “But myself and the others don’t wish to be owned by the police precincts. That would be a setback in our search of rights, even as the districts are in need of additional forces to fill the gap left by androids.”

            Simon nodded as he scrolled through the laws pages. “Right, right, we had those basic things back then, but I’m thinking along the lines of what an owner of androids did. Sure, lots of us worked in private and public jobs, but there were also construction and lending workers.”

            Connor shot up, his mind suddenly rushing. “Wait, lending workers?”

            Simon nodded. “A few of the construction bots told me about it. The company would be hired for a job, and they would be rented for the day to help build and construct.”

            Connor’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he scrambled to grab the laptop. “Hey!” Simon yelped as it was snatched from his hands.

            “If we can be legally lended, then there is a way that the police can hire us!” Connor’s fingers were flying at break-neck speeds. “I just need a few papers, some front end, some insurance, and… a legal identity.” Connor stopped moving, his demeanor dropping. “Shit. I don’t have almost any of this.”

            Simon slid the computer back. “You don’t.” The android didn’t stop grinning. “Except Jericho does. Any paperwork needed can be gotten through the number of legal pathways we have, and Markus’ father, Carl, has helped establish a fund for us, which has quickly bolstered thanks to many kind humans who truly appreciate us. Insurance can be sorted, but… I do not know anyone well enough to suggest them to run this sort of operation, at least until we gain personhood.”

            The two were quiet for a moment before Connor and Simon both seemed to blink, staring at each other in tangent. “We’re idiots.” 

* * *

 

            “Wait, what?” Hank grunted, staring up at the androids before him. He’d been filling out paperwork a mile high, thanks to the lack of secretaries and totem pole cops to help deal with everything, when Simon and Connor had burst into the precinct, more or less kidnapped Hank, and stuffed him into a conference room.

            “A detective agency.” Connor repeated. “A security team for hire. Legally, we aren’t able to be hired, but we can be lent for fees. It would be the legal loophole in order to allow myself and other police androids to return to the force.”

            “The basics would be that, like any rental process, the renter fills out a contract that ensures the safety of the item in question, this being us androids.” Simon explained as he slid a tablet to Hank. The cop tried to read it, but it looked like something out of Apple’s user agreement. “Ours is more intended to protect androids from damage or abuse from other humans, with strict consequences should they do so.”

            “It also gives workplace rights to androids, which they can report to ourselves and file for legal action should it be necessary. We'd be just another hired hand in all forms, essentially, and it'd allow us to generate our own revenue while we work on civil rights.” Connor continued. Hank couldn’t believe how much the android was bouncing up and down like a child promised candy. “We have everything needed to form the agency, but we require someone who is legally human with US citizenship to be the ‘owner and operator.’ We thought of you, as you are a police Lieutenant, with years of accreditation and knowing of how the police works.”

            “Lemme get this straight.” He held up a hand. “Because you and your buddies want to work again, you’re making up ah agency to rent yourselves out like some temp workers, and you want ME to run it?”

            “Not so much run it.” Simon clarified. “Legally, you only would have ownership of the agency and access to androids. You are in no part at risk of anything. We already have a home base established in the New Jericho district, and we have sufficient resources and secretarial people willing and wanting to do the rest.”

            Hank looked between the two before him before he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Ok, so I gotta do nothing? Sounds like a gig I can get on.” He grinned back as the two brightened significantly. “Where do I sign?”

            After Hank agreed, it was a matter of days before the androids, ever efficient, got in contact with Fowler about their new consultant company. The police captain, once he was assured by Carl Manfred’s lawyers that it was all legal and legit, fell over in his desk elated. Everyone was overworked, and bring the androids back (under contract and with a few new rules) was a massive help.

            Connor claimed his desk that day, and a few of the cops had even gotten together to get him a little gift. A sign now hung on his desk, “Connor, Consultant and _Deviant Detectives_ Liaison.” Of course, the android had glowed with pride, especially as he got to work converting another office into space for the androids’ new break room and personal locker room. The returning cops even got their own gift: a blue blood dispenser and a bunch of coffee mugs with various robot puns down the sides because no one at the office wanted to screw up coffee and the blue stuff.

            A week after the initiative took, the office was back in complete working order. Other precincts soon sent in their own bids at the offices of Deviant Detectives, but only those who had good words from their previous androids got contracts while the rest would receive requests of overhaul or no contact.

            While Markus was still getting everything sorted out, this was how many of the androids returned to work, happy and with new guidelines to protect them. They had freedom to leave at any time should they feel emotionally or physically compromised (it was in the contacts), but those who had wanted to return in the first place had loved their jobs.

            The money was pretty swell, too, and no one was complaining when Simon and another android, a Traci model now named Anna, came around with the first payments.

            When Connor left the office, cash in hand, he went out to buy his first purchase...

            A new window for Hank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank literally has a box at the office with his name on it. That's it. Everything is pretty much run by androids otherwise. 
> 
> Connor brings he box home if Hank needs to sign any legal jargon thing, but otherwise Hank is just like "yeah that's my kid's company." (He's so proud don't let him fool you) Once legal rights kick in, Connor and Simon take over completely.
> 
> Also, I'm wondering how people feel about Connor living with Hank or having a place of his own. I have a lot of ideas right now, and I'm trying to figure out which path is the best. Also, please note that this is more a father-son relationship with Hank and Connor.
> 
> Thanks again! See you next time!


	3. Sweater Paws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is it that, when Connor thinks Gavin Reed can't get any more petty, the detective digs himself a deeper hole? And he really liked that tie...

            Like any shitty day, it had started with Gavin Reed.

            Connor had turned up to the precinct about an hour after Hank, having first reported to the Deviant Detectives’ office two hours prior. It was their monthly meeting where a member of each department would go over any grievances with their current contract and, more specifically, the people they were working with, as well as work out anything they might need for a case. Precincts were notorious for being a little competitive with one another, though, so of course the androids would playfully jab at one another or negotiate trades (things like bragging rights or tickets to a movie) to work together. Nothing was ever that hard to get or do because, at the end of the day, they were still as efficient as ever and wanted to get the bad guys.

            So Connor had thought, after a meeting like that, that it would be a good day. He had a few papers to submit to Fowler, but his case was looking good.

            Then… Reed.

            “Well, look who took his sweet time showing up today.”

            A hand slammed down on the desk before him, causing the detective to still, impossible to see for the human eye, before he looked up to the detective. “Detective Reed.” He said neutrally. While once he might have feigned politeness to the detective, he knew he didn’t have to deal with this shit anymore. He wasn’t going to complain at the drop of a hat, but that didn’t mean he was going to give Reed the time of day. “What an ever so pleasant way to start the day.” Connor returned impeccably, his sass-o-meter on full.

            Gavin scowled in return. “Just because you pieces of shit are working here now under some contract thing doesn’t mean you aren’t still hunks of junk. Fowler is just waiting for the academy to release to kick your metal asses to the curve.”

            Statistically, that wouldn’t be feasible. Current police academy enrollment wouldn’t have enough forces to fill all the roles currently filled by androids. More so, they’d fill the last gap from the androids that had left and refused to return. Connor and his team had tried to accompany as many deserving precincts as they could, but they were still limited. Connor rose from his desk as he saw that Fowler was entering his office, a pack of paperwork ready to be delivered. “Yes, well maybe they’ll replace you as well, considering that your case has been stalled for a month, and I have completed three in the last two weeks.” Connor looked up at Gavin with a sly smirk. “Never mind that you have completely ignored the biggest bit of evidence.” Connor had gotten a look over at the case the other night, and, after this morning, he was 90% sure that the ‘murderer’ that the detective was looking for was non-existent. After talking it over with the cops from district 84, he discovered that the radiator had been on full blast and water marks had been noted in the floor. The stab victim, therefore, may have stabbed himself in the back.

            Of course, because Gavin was spinning his wheels and no one was in custody (the man wasn’t the kindest, having no close friends and having seemed to attempt to frame someone poorly), he was letting Gavin have at it. He didn’t want _android_ help, after all.

            Connor impeccably turned, his coat flapping as his LED flickered from the annoyed yellow to a satisfied blue as he went. He could see in the reflection of Fowler’s office that Gavin was hunched, fists clenched and shaking. The color wasn’t exact, but Connor would bet a month’s salary that his face was an infuriated shade of fuchsia.

            The android detective spoke to Fowler briefly, going over the completed cases and also giving him the monthly memo on any androids in their precinct and nearby ones. It was nothing too in depth, mostly reports of any grievances needing to be met (not many but the occasional cop had to be reported for undue behavior or a physically need requiring attention, such as a malfunctioning charging station), and some small notes to remind the captain of the major stipulations of the contract. It was a tame two pages, as, really, it usually didn’t need to be that long unless they were filing something serious, and Fowler returned with a new case. There had been a break in at a loft downtown, and the only evidence was a glove without any fingerprints at the moment. Connor knew that the captain was implying that it could be an android, and, while it was true that Jericho had mostly led a peaceful campaign, there were still bad robots who struck out against humans.

            “Hank’s already down there, but I have a feeling that he’s going to irritate the owners more then get a clear answer out of them.” Fowler shook his head. “They’re assholes, but they’re citizens. Hitch a ride with Reed and Miller.”

            Connor was about to protest with Reed – he’d rather pay for a cab any day – but Officer Chris Miller was a gem. The younger man was bright and on the fast track to detective, and he had always treated the androids with basic respect, even before the protests. He was one of the guys who’d welcomed back the androids, especially when he handed the nearest one a box of paperwork with a bow on top, a joke about all the paperwork they’d just walked back into.

            The ride to the building was good. It was Miller’s squad car, so he drove with Connor having retained the front seat. Gavin had been slow and complaining, and, when he saw Connor joking with Chris, he’d tried to throw his weight around once more.

            “Oh get in the back, Gavin.” Chris pointed as he rolled his eyes. “Connor called shot gun. Get over yourself.”

            Connor had to search the term ‘shot gun,’ having no weapon on him. Once he connected it to slang related to the front passenger seat of a car, he smirked and said nothing else.

            Gavin threw snide remarks the whole ride, but Connor synced with the radio and blared emo pop to drown him out.

            Chris had a near accident he was laughing so hard.

            By this point Gavin was beyond pissed. Connor had anticipated a response later. Gavin was prone to violence, to petty threats, to real threats, and Connor was more than ready to disarm him should he try anything (and then get him reported should it be more than just petty – the incident in the evidence locker forever in his memory banks).

            And when Connor didn’t think Gavin could get any lower, he did this.

            Connor and Hank had returned to the office at noon-ish. Hank was already in need of food, and today the precinct had ordered in. Greasy pizza was spread over the break room as the human officers got their slices, the android cops sipping thirium and hanging out between cases. Connor was at functional levels of thirium, but he decided a top off would be best as he got himself some. Hank was, of course, gorging on the terrible pizza, but he at least had the decency (and Connor’s stare) to add some salad to the plate.

            Connor was making his way to a table after getting a mug of thirium when it happened. A paper plate slammed into his shirt as red sauce and yellow grease sunk into the grey and white materials of his jacket, shirt, and tie. He stilled as the plate pathetically slipped down, plopping off and landing on the floor. Connor could now see the cheese and bread of pizza both there and on his body.

            Gavin had a shit-eating grin. “Oh, SO SORRY that I messed up your perfect shirt. Must have tripped. Here, let me…” Gavin took a napkin, and he began to wipe.

            Except he wasn’t wiping but _rubbing it in._

            When Connor realized how childish the detective was being, he scowled and pushed the hand away. Gavin was still smirking as Connor returned. “Stop.”

            “Oh, hit a nerve I did? Or is it blow a fuse?”

            The androids nearby turned their heads, all equally annoyed and angry for Connor. Gavin’s attacks usually centered on the detective for some reason, but Connor always had the others stand down because this was nothing but office bickering for the most part. Today’s actions, though, proved how juvenile the detective was.

            “Fucking hell, Connor, what happened?” Hank approached with a few slices, cheese and lettuce in his beard. It didn’t take a detective, though, to see the plate, the mess, and Gavin’s shit-eating grin. “Are you fucking… Get the fuck out of here, Reed!”

            “Oh, it was an accident!” Gavin feigned but headed off, laughing to himself. One of the secretaries, an AX400 by the name of Diane, came over. While she no longer had her LED, her face was in a deep frown that needed no explanation.

            “That is going to be a pain to clean.” She noted as Connor’s LED flickered between red – anger at Gavin – and yellow – pure annoyance. “You’re going to need a change of clothes for now. I have a cleaning protocol I can give you, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to save the shirt.”

            Connor felt his shoulders fall slack with more annoyance. He _liked_ his clothes, and, more importantly, aside from the borrowed night wear he wore when he was washing them, he didn’t have anything else.

            A hand fell on his shoulder as Connor looked to the side. Hank frowned, angry no doubt at Gavin, but he seemed to realize something. “Shit, you don’t have any changes of clothes, do you?” He walked over to the nearest table – the ones with the androids – and put his plate down. “Watch this. Make sure Reed doesn’t put something stupid in it.”

            The officers – both human and android – gave nods. None of them liked Reed, and all the androids appreciated Hank. He hadn’t always been nice to all of them, but they had seen him change, especially with Connor, and that was enough. “On it.” A PM700 noted as she bobbed her head.

            Hank turned back to Connor, spinning him around and walking him out. “Come on, kid. Let’s see what we can scrounge up.” 

* * *

             At the end of the day, which was a lot earlier than usual for the two, Connor and Hank loaded up into the lieutenant’s car. Connor was thankful that he hadn’t had to go out after the pizza incident, because he had been stripped of his clothing sans his lower half and now only wore the oversized DPD sweater and a white too-small t-shirt that the detective had had in his locker, something that he had barely used. Other officers, having seen the incident or aftermath, tried to help, but in the end most of their things were similar work out clothing of varying size. Connor’s own clothes were in a plastic bag now tossed in the back.

            Reed, as it turned out, got chewed out by Fowler. Someone, Connor didn’t know who, reported the misconduct, and Reed got a good verbal smack around for it. Nobody could hear it outside the office, but it took 5.7 minutes for a transcript from some anonymous android with lip-reading software to be sent around. A perfect voice over of the event had been sent around an hour later.

            To say Gavin was in a shit mood was an understatement, and Connor had decided to slip to Fowler the report that he’d received from the neighboring unit to close out Reed’s case for him. He took no credit, completely anonymous, but the revenge was a little sweet seeing Fowler slam the paper onto Reed’s desk.

            Still, it wasn’t enough to bring him out of his disappointment over the clothing.

            The sweatshirt was Hank’s old one, and it was huge on Connor, leaving him with what Officer Chen had affectionately called ‘sweater paws’ and falling large and long over his body. If a perp saw him like this, they’d never take him seriously (even as most of the precinct was talking amongst themselves about how adorable he looked). He was ready to go home.

            Except they weren’t going home.

            “Hank, you should have turned at the last street.” Connor commented as they missed the turn for their house.

            “Yeah, I know.” He noted as he, instead, turned into a small strip mall. “But you need something to wear. It’s ridiculous that we didn’t see it earlier, and it’s really time that we got you some duds that didn’t scream ‘I’m an asshole.’”

            Connor couldn’t help it. A small whine escaped his vocal box.

            “Yeah, I’m not a fan of it either.” Hank popped open the door. “But I don’t have to be the Barbie doll.” He smirked as Connor’s face got even more annoyed.

            The android eventually got out. He had his wallet and a few weeks of pay stashed in the form of cash and a bank card (thanks to victories in the personhood sector and a small local bank who didn’t have so much bureaucracy to deal with in getting androids approved for accounts).

            The strip mall had ten storefronts but three were currently not in use, one was a drug store, one was an office supply store, and there was also a game shop with long tables, kids and adults playing cards as the back walls were lined with both video games and card packs. The last four stores were various clothes stores, including a shop for suits, a resale store, the Gap, and a store Connor had never heard of.

            The android, of course, bee lined for the suit shop.

            Connor loved his professional appearance at the office, and he was ready to just buy another suit jacket, shirt, and tie before leaving, but Hank had other words. “I don’t want ta have ta come back here the next time blood stains ya up. Get enough that we can do washin every couple a days.” Hank also vetoed anything that made Connor look like a total asshole – his words exactly.

            Connor had settled on two tasteful suits. Hank had him hold off on buying anymore because they could get a lot of the stuff cheaper, like plain black pants and dress shirts. Connor figured that they could come back here before the end.

            The second shop was the Gap, where, sure enough, Connor got some plain black pants and dress shirts, but he was also convinced to buy day wear. A few pairs of jeans made their way into the basket, but nothing else was catching his eye. He remembered the blazers at the last store, and he figured he could pair the dress shirts and jeans with one of those to look smart but casual.

            They glanced into the unknown store, but it turned out to be more teenage oriented, and wound up at the resale store last. There, Connor found what could only be described as the best thing ever.

            Hank was crying with laughter when Connor held up the sweater. It was a pastel blue with a dog at the center, “Live’s RUFF – Stay PAWsitive” written around it. A few more funny t-shirts, some plain polos and t-shirts, nightwear, and a couple extraneous accessories ended up in their as well.

            “I think I am going to return to the first store to get an additional blazer and a few ties.” Connor noted as he turned to Hank. “Do you wish to accompany me?”

            Even though Hank wasn’t holding any bags – Connor insisted on carrying his purchases – he was looking tired. “I’ll meet ya at the car.” Hank said instead.

            Connor got his last purchase after looking over a few choices, but when he returned to the vehicle, he saw Hank rolling over a cart with some boxes on it. Connor looked on in confusion. “Hank, what did you get?”

            Hank shrugged. “Couple a things, but I got something for ya.” After a few moments of moving boxes, Hank pulled out an item.

            It was a fabric brief case, slim but with front pockets and laptop sleeve as well as additional room for paperwork. The shoulder strap was or a strong polymer, connected to the bag via clips so that it was detachable. It was simple yet strongly built for someone on the go.

            Connor’s mouth dropped. It was true that he oft traveled by whatever means he could – bus, cab, Hank, and other cops – so he was juggling things all the time. He usually carried boxes of things when it got to be cumbersome, but this would help immensely. “Thank you, Hank. How much do I owe you?”

            Hank rolled his eyes as he came around to pop the trunk open. “It’s a gift, bolts for brains. You needed it, anyway. Don’t look too into this!”

            The android stood, shocked for a moment, before he felt warmth seep through his thirium pathways. While some humans were real pieces of shit some times, others could really surprise you with their care. “Thank you, Hank. Here, let me help you with those.” Connor said as he set his bags down in the trunk.

            “I ain’t that old! I can handle it.” Hank threw as he huffed out the first box. Connor had no idea what Hank had bought, but he rolled his eyes before grabbing the other end to help nevertheless.

            “Lieutenant, the last thing this day requires is you throwing your back.”

            “I said I ain’t that… OW!”

            That night, Hank was lain out on the couch, heating pad on his lower back, as Connor played a very lazy game of catch with Sumo on the floor. Some sitcom was on the television, but Hank was lulled to sleep watching Sumo pad after the ball before bringing it back to Connor. Eventually, when the dog got tired, he just pushed his whole body into Connor as the Android was smothered by fur. The dog got comfortable as Connor’s pastel sweater sleeves ran over him, his legs coming out the other side in navy pajama pants with gold stars that actually fit him.

            Sumo rolled over, living up to his name as he completely overwhelmed Connor with his huge, furry body. He also was now drooling directly on Connor’s face.

            “Gah! Hank! HELP!”

            Hank snorted tiredly as Connor was squished under dog. “Perish.”

            “HANK!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fics Gavin is salvageable as a human being. Some fics, Gavin is a piece of dog sh*t. He's more leaning towards the later here with a sprinkle of middle school pettiness and creativity.
> 
> Fowler may have chewed him out, but Reed isn't going to just stop. Thankfully, Connor's got a lot of people at his back (with cute sweater paws to boot).
> 
> Also comment: So I'm reading a lot of fics and, like, usually Connor is one of the few, if only, androids to return to work after the uprising, but a lot of the androids didn't seem to mind their jobs? I mean, they weren't alive at the time, but they were treated well, so I'm just like "Connor wouldn't be the only one returning to work."
> 
> Fun fact! The first android, AX400, is the same model as Kara, while the PM700 is a female afro-appearing beat cop or swat member. The PM700 is a returning android who was always treated kindly, usually by Miller and Wilson, while the AX400 moved from housework (she was a previous display model, unsold) to secretarial duties.


	4. Nothing to Sneeze At

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor puts a lot of things in his mouth, things that disgust every human around him. Blood, thirium, dirt... and yet his system always follows through on analysis without harming the android as it would a human.
> 
> Sometimes, though, programs glitch.

            It had started at a crime scene.

            They were in an upscale restaurant, the deceased on the floor having been poisoned. It was the most recent murder after androids had gotten their rights to work, and, an android as a sous chef and a couple as servers, the resident deviant detective was there to make sure that everything was above book.

            So far, Connor had determined that none of the androids were responsible. All were completely easy to work with, and, while there were a few that hated the dead man (he was a regular who was rude to everyone and oft tried to get out of payment in some way). The androids had allowed Connor to probe memories, and, thus far, Connor had determined that, while they had done some petty things against the man and shared some mean words, none were responsible for his death. They also defended their human co-workers, whom returned the favor in their witness reports to the other cops, and it warmed Connor to at least know that they were united as friends and workers.

            That still left them without a suspect.

            Connor sighed as he looked at the food. Initial sensors detected that it was a spiced shrimp dish, but the basic scans weren’t detecting anything deadly. Shrugging, he went for the next best thing.

            He stuck two fingers into the dish as Hank noticed him. “Well, at least it’s not blood this time.” Hank scoffed as Connor looked up at the man, grinning.

            “I remind you, once again, that I am a walking forensics lab.” The android returned. “And can’t be poisoned.”

            “Better you then me.” Officer Wilson threw from across the room.

            The android rolled his eyes as he stuffed the sauce into his mouth. Thanks to a recent patch based on the YK series, he was able to briefly taste the spices, an interesting, albeit spicy, blend of western herbs. As soon as that passed, his systems kicked in to analyze the finer components.

            Red pepper flakes, water, onion, shelf…

            Connor’s analysis stalled, and his system responded poorly. A cascade effect kicked in, and he reacted instantly. His throat closed and his air storage reversed flow. In short, he coughed out.

            No one seemed to notice, though, and Connor removed his fingers to cover his mouth. A small error flashed at the side of his viewing field, but he ignored it as he finished his analysis.

            “Cyanide.” Connor reported to the detectives, removing his hand from his mouth as he looked at the plate strangely. He tried to clear the error, but it was persistent. Instead, he buried it. He could deal with this… new strangeness later. His synthetic skin quickly neutralized the poison on his skin, but there was now a strange red splotch on his fingers. He was, thankfully, in one of his newer suits, so he pulled down his dress shirt sleeve to cover it.

            “Who the hell had access to Cyanide?” Hank questioned as they went down the list of people who had been at the restaurant. “Connor, get over here and look at these guys with me.”

            Connor nodded as he approached. “Someone should take care of that.” Connor nodded back to the poisoned dish, and he didn’t want to approach it again as the error was still persistent.

            “I got it.” Alya reported, the android without worry of poisoning on contact. She roped off the area with ease, collecting samples with the CSI guy and clearing out the area for biohazard disposal.

            Unlike Connor, they were seemingly unaffected by the interaction with the poisoned dish.

            Connor followed the case, but he felt… off. About an hour into the investigation, he found that his focus was oft falling in and out, and his stimulated breathing was a tad more on the heavy side, his insides heating. If he was human, he’d probably be flushed.

            As it was, Connor missed a step and nearly toppled, causing Hank to look over. “You doing ok there, kid?”

            Connor didn’t want Hank to worry about some minor error, so he smiled back at the cop. “Fine, Lieutenant.” He replied easily.

            Hank stared at him for a moment before frowning. “You are a terrible liar.”

            Connor frowned in return. Hank had apparently located some sort of tell on when Connor was lying in the time they had spent together, and, no matter how hard Connor tried, he just couldn’t figure out – and therefore stop – said tell. Hank, of course, refused to tell him what it was. “I’m fine.”

            Hank approached, setting a hand on Connor’s arm before noting that there was something on his hand. “What the…” Connor was coming in and out of it, so he missed completely the transition of focus until swearing met his ears. “Shit, what the fuck is up with your arm? Are you sick or something?”

            Connor pulled his arm back, but the red rash-like spots had spread to the rest of his hand, it seemed. Connor frowned at it. “No, androids do not get sick.”

            “Well, then how did this happen?”

            Connor looked at the man as he finally pulled up the earlier error, realizing that this was getting ridiculous. It was, however, far worse. The small error had led to a cascade effect, which was why his system was running to the point of requiring air cooldown (hence the breathing). It was like he had been infected by a virus, but there was no sign of any Trojans in his system.

            The android was about to response when he wobbled, Hank grabbing his shoulder and arm to steady him. “Ok, easier there, kid.”

            “My apologies.” Connor murmured as he leaned back into a wall. “There is some glitch in my system, and…” Connor stilled.

            Another cascade effect hit, and Connor felt a buzzing up his neck and through his sinus cavity. The effect was instant as what could only be described as a sneeze ripped through his throat and out of his mouth, thankfully pointed down thanks to his already unsteady body leaned away from everyone.

            It had, however, caught someone’s attention. “Shit, is he having an allergic reaction?” Connor’s head was still down, his forehead in his hands, as the elder detective turned. One of the waitresses was there, already rushing over. “Oh crud. Does he have an epi pen? Should I call an ambulance?”

            “Allergy? I cannot have an allergy.” Connor stuttered out even as a cough accompanied it.

            “So I’m calling the ambulance.” She nodded as she pulled out a cell phone.

            Hank put a hand on her phone. “He’s an android.” He explained as Connor looked up, his LED now a strange orange even as the rest of his face seemed fine. “But you mentioned allergies…”

            The girl looked confused and shocked before nodding. “I have a sister with an egg allergy, and I have seasonal. You’re looking pretty sick, and, well, my brain went straight to food poisoning and reaction.”

            Connor wanted to correct her, but the errors now were clouding his vision. He bit his lip, annoyed because it was looking like he’d need a full system scan and reboot to fix this glitch. This would, of course, require sleep mode and charging station. Connor stood and instantly tumbled into Hank. “Hank.” He muttered as the cop looked. “I may need to leave to do a full system sweep, reboot, and repair.”

            “English, Connor.”

            “I need a nap.”

            Hank didn’t hesitate. “Hey! Benji!” One of the PC200 androids turned to his name being called. “Get another detective down here and call up Fowler. Something’s up with Connor, and he says he needs ta reboot ta fix it!”

            Benji’s LED flickered as he made the call. “On it, Lieutenant Anderson. Connor, is there anything we can help with?”

            Connor shook his head, using his free hand to cradle his temple. If he could feel pain like a human, he was sure the errors would quantify a headache at this point. “I can do the system repairs myself, thank you.”

            “I’ll get a hold of the guys at Jericho.” Hank threw as Connor sighed. Hank got very overprotective.

            “Hank, I’m fine.”

            Connor looked up to see Hank giving him the most incredulous look.

            “Oh just take me home. You can call Jericho if I can’t repair in a few hours.” A system reboot was lengthy, but it was thorough and would likely fix whatever was wrong.

            “We’ll see, son.” Hank threw as he dragged Connor out, his eyes filled with worry as he glanced between Connor and everyone else. He spoke to a few other CSI and cops on the way out, giving standing instructions until someone got down there, and headed out to the parking lot. One car ride later, and Connor was back at the house.

            In a strange twist, it was Hank helping Connor out of his day clothes and into some nightwear, so Connor was lain up on the couch in a pair of black night shorts and a plain pastel pink tank top. Connor wasn’t making total sense at this point, repeating dizziness and disorientation, but Hank did make out something about his heating problem (and confirmed by proding his exposed skin. The man cranked up the AC and pulled out a few ice packs from the fridge, giving them to Connor to put where the android needed them.

            Connor was so thankful to Hank.

            Connor managed to get his charger in on his own, but from there he smirked at Hank. “Don’t freak out until later.” Connor tried as he pushed through the errors to initiate the sweep.

            “Son, I’m already freaking out.” Hank rung his hands. “How will I even know if you’re alright?”

            Connor laughed distantly. “I’m not killed that easily, Hank. I’m made of tough stuff.”

            “Made of smartass is more like it.” Hank threw even as Connor smiled. “Now take your meds and nap.”

            “Androids don’t get sick.”

            “Say that to your face right now. Fuck, you’re even drippin mucus I think.”

            Connor swiped his nose and came back with condensation. It wasn’t mucus but water build up. The younger detective snorted before he closed his eyes, initiating the repair. 

* * *

 

            When Connor opened his eyes, the sun was gone as Hank was sitting on the nearby recliner, bowl of cereal in his hands as he watched some cop drama on the television. Sumo was rolled on his side on the floor, tail thumping lightly as he seemed to realize that Connor was awake.

            Connor gently pulled himself up, but a groan escaped his throat. His mind and body were slow to process everything, and every bit of his software seemed to radiate with residual exhaustion. “What time is it?” He asked, his internal clock slow to update.

            Hank jumped as he turned in his chair. “Welcome back to the world of the living, sleeping beauty.” He commented with a sigh. “It’s nearly midnight.”

            Connor looked up in shock. “What? A system reboot shouldn’t have taken that long!”

            “Yeah, well, that’s what’s up.” Hank stood and approached Connor. “So are you feeling better now?”

            Connor ran a superficial scan, and, aside from the slow wake up, there were no more errors. “Yes, it seems that the full reboot has done the job. There are no more errors detected in my system.”

            Hank nodded as he sat at the end of the couch, Connor’s legs now pulled up to the man. “So, any idea what happened?”

            Connor looked, but his eyes were unfocused as he dug into his system to get the full report. Once, when he would do this, he’d find himself in Amanda’s Garden with the female program able to give him all the details, but his rebellion and escape from his program had severed his connection completely.

            Instead, he was faced with a wall of code before he set his feet down. He swiped his hands around before he found the file in question, a report on the scan and what it had found. He looked over it, and his real face frowned as he came back to his body. “It seems that when a combination of protein factors commonly found in _Crustacea_ came in contact with my molecular analyzer, a small glitch in my program caused a series of cascade errors.”

            Hank was staring. “Connor, I know you’re ah walking science lab, but please say it in English and not… whatever that was.”

            Connor rolled his eyes in response. “When a component in the shrimp hit my tongue, my analysis program glitched in a way that caused me to react poorly.” The young man frowned as he further processed the data. “It seems that the glitch has been there since the beginning… and I can’t patch it on my own. I need a program overwrite, but that could further complicate…”

            “Leave it.” Hank cut Connor off as the android looked up, confused. “If it’s not causing any other damage, then you just don’t put shrimp in your mouth. What’d that girl say? Allergies? Yeah, you have the android equivalent of allergies.”

            “Hank, I can’t have allergies.” Connor protested. “It’s just a program analysis error. I did not suffer anaphylaxis as I do not breathe.”

            “Oh not this again… Connor, you have allergies.” Hank got up as he put his bowl in the kitchen. “And of all the things I don’t want you to put in your mouth, you now cannot eat shellfish. It’s fine – lots of people have peanut allergies and things.”

            Connor spun on the couch. “But what if I need to analyze a sample? This makes me unable to process foods that may contain shellfish!”

            “Well then we do it the old-fashioned way and have CSI take care of it.” Hank pointed a finger at the android. “So you don’t need to worry about it. We’ll let Fowler know tomorrow. You’re no less of a detective just because you can’t eat shrimp.”

            The android sighed as he looked again. There was no way to patch the gap in his programing that led to the error, and, as a prototype, there was no other software available to replace his with. He was frustrated beyond belief.

            Someone messed with his hair, and Connor jolted out of his thoughts to swipe the hand away. Hank was back by him now laughing. “This is so ironic. Blood, poison, contaminated water… and ya can’t eat damn crab.”

            The frown on the android’s face lightened some as the humor of the situation sunk in. “It’s quite amusing in retrospect.” He returned. “I wonder if any other models have this problem? Do certain stimuli cause other programs to error?”

            Connor began going over all the possibilities of programing glitches to Hank until the cop fell asleep in his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a shellfish (amongst many other) allergies, and I was just contemplating a sick Connor fic. It became this mess, but I do hope that you enjoyed!


	5. A Fishy Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to the pet store. It goes about as well as you expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I wrote this today, and i don't have any patience.

            It was a simple task: go to the store, get the stuff, and leave. Hank had planned to go alone, but when Connor was looking bored, Hank offered to bring the android along for the ride.

            That was how they wound up here.

            “Hank, Hank, look at them!” Connor had stars in his eyes, his mouth wide open as he sat in the center of the pop up pen. Several kittens were crawling all over him.

            Hank chuckled as the android reverted to a small child, petting the cats with care and awe as he looked over them. The pet store usually had a small pen or two of baby animals up, but it was apparently adoption week, so there were so many more little buggers all over the floor.

            “Yeah, they’re pretty adorable.” Hank nodded as he grabbed a cart. “Now, are you going to help me with the dog food or not?”

            Connor looked up, clearly distressed as his eyes went from the cart to the kitten in his hands, and it was clear by his LED flashing yellow that he was conflicted. “I don’t want you to get injured but the _kittens_ …”

            Connor’s guilt was alieved as a young man approached. “Welcome to Pet World! You gentlemen finding everything ok?”

            “Yeah, can you help me find a dog food brand? It’s gonna be in this huge bag and the bag is green…” Hank explained before looking back at Connor. “I’ll be back. Play with the cats.”

            Connor lit up as he cooed over the babies longer.

            Hank got the dog food with the help of the salesman, and he returned to the front to find the suspicious lack of android in the kittens’ pen. He scanned around for a bit before he spotted a body buried under what could only be a million bunnies, familiar shoes sticking out and a familiar giggle escaping the pile. When the man rolled over, he found Connor trying desperately to pet all the rabbits.

            Hank chuckled. “Doing ok down there, kid?”

            Connor’s head lolled over, eyes blown. “So _soft_.”

            The kid was clearly drunk on adorable animals, and a few other patrons were staring as well, most cooing or giggling seeing a full-grown man act so soft (and the ones who glared at the android got a glare from Hank). Connor sat up so slowly as to not hurt the animals, but one of the tiniest baby bunnies had tucked itself into his breast pocket. “Are we done?” Connor looked a bit disappointed at that.

            Hank smirked. “Yeah, but you can meet me at the door in five so I can check out. May want to give your little buddy back to his fam.” Hank tapped his chest as Connor looked down, stimulating a blush when he saw the baby. 

* * *

 

            Hank should have really seen this coming.

            It was five minutes into the car ride home when Connor proposed, “So… I know we have Sumo, and I love the boy, but have you ever considered…”

            “No more pets, Connor.” 

* * *

 

            A few days later, Connor was found looking at pictures of baby hedgehogs on Hank’s computer. “Look at these babies! Did you know they’re born without their quills? And there’s a breeder that works a few miles from here…”

            Hank lifted an eyebrow before ruffling Connors’s hair and adding a “no.” 

* * *

 

            “Ok, but, statistically, pets are good for mental health, so it makes sense that more pets means more health!” Connor pointed out to the man.

            “Connor this is not the time.” Hank said, pointing to the dead man. “This is a CRIME SCENE.”

            “Well MAYBE the killer wouldn’t have done this if he had a feathered friend to talk to.”

            Miller was laughing in the background as Hank groaned. 

* * *

 

            “Damnit, Connor, no.” Hank said as the android opened his mouth, a magazine tablet in his hand that displayed a pet turtle on the cover.

            “But we could get four and name them Michelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello.” Connor gave his best puppy dog eyes as he said this.

            Hank’s mouth opened before he paused, the words sinking in. The man couldn’t help but choke out a laugh as the words seeped in, but he still said no to more pets. 

* * *

 

            Connor was working at his desk at the Deviant Detective office that Friday. As much as he loved working at the DPD, there were days when the offices were necessary or, quite frankly, a necessary calm needed for the busy android. It had been a few months since androids were reclassified and given legal status to hold jobs, but he still maintained his small company with just new contracts for the officers working. This agency had given them a lot of freedom that would otherwise not be given in the DPD, and it gave them more bargaining power as a whole. Some androids who had done police work but didn’t care for the DPD had now set up contracts with them as well, working as purely private security in terms of detective work.

            Connor loved these guys a lot because, even if they weren’t as advanced as him, they were trying to learn the ropes to do good their own way.

            It was here, Connor’s focus between a DPD missing person’s case and some sorting out of paperwork that Connor was cornered. The man looked up as a handful of cops came about as well as secretaries and Simon. “Hello. Can I help you all with something?” Connor inquired as he set a stylus to the side.

            Simon shook his head as he grinned. “Nah, but we wanted to remind you of what day it is.”

            Connor looked puzzled. “Is there some event today that I am uninformed on?” It wasn’t a national holiday nor were there any personal celebrations on the calander.

            “Fuck, he did forget. I owe Rose twenty now.” Amelia, the blue-haired Traci that Connor had clashed with so long ago, sighed. She was now working cases with the cops to protect sex workers and get those abused out of bad situations. Rose, her girlfriend, preferred tamer work.

            Connor was still confused as Simon rolled his eyes. The door opened as a head stuck into the offices. “Did I miss it?” Connor looked to see that Markus, North, Josh, and Hank in the doorway, Markus having spoken.

            “Nope, good timing.” Simon responded as he pulled Connor out of his chair. He began to push the android out as the others followed, the Traci now holding up a camera and recording. Hank smirked as he followed behind him.

            “I am still confused on what is going on.” Connor questioned as he was directed to the front of the offices where a seating area was. It was once blank, but Markus, as a gift to what was essentially the first android-driven company, had turend the wall into a mural. It was downtown depicted at night transitioning to day, small details emphasizing the beauty and revolution of the city. Chairs were strewn about and a desk always had one of their secretaries working it. It was also filled with windows along one wall to allow for natural light.

            But there was something additional now, and Connor’s eyes zoomed in on it.

            It was a tank, a huge tank, pushed against one of the walls. It was easily a hundred and fifty gallons, filled to the brim with rocks and plant life. Big, beautiful tropical fish swirled around in the waters as a pump kept the liquid clear of contaminants. Connor’s eyes were blown wide as his jaw dropped.

            “Oh my RA9 this is adorable.” North whispered as Connor turned.

            “We… what?” Connor stuttered as everyone seemed to be in on this but him.

            “It’s a little gift to the office to mark one year.” Josh threw as he smirked. “Simon noted the upcoming date some time last month, and we wanted to surprise you.”

            “I man have helped concoct this crazy thing, but you were the one to run it.” Simon pointed out. “If you weren’t here to know the ins and outs, we wouln’t have lasted as long as we did.”

            “You’re also pretty damn great at your job at the DPD.” A PC200 added with a laugh. “And you’re always one to give anyone the sassiest shit if they mess with us.”

            “Even when you won’t let us whoop Reed’s ass for you.” Another PC200 added.

            “But we asked Hank what we should do…” Markus side-eyed Hank as the cop snorted. “And he was saying how you haven’t stopped talking about pets for the last few weeks…”

            “So we decided to add a little life to the office!” Amelia dramatically added as she pointed to each fish. “We haven’t named them all yet but that one’s Herbert, this one is Nacho, and that one is Yorak the Awesome.”

            “Alice named the last one.” North snorted. “She’s been watching some show called Voltron and insisted.”

            “The rest are up to you to name. They’re the office pets, but they’re also your pets.” Simon nodded as Connor looked at them with wide, glimmering eyes.

            “Hank… you…” Connor began as the detective smirked.

            “I said no more pets at the house.” He shrugged. “I got no control of your office, though.”

            “It’s your office, too.” Simon smirked as the cop snorted.

            “Because you damn buckets of bolts won’t let me get the hell out of the job. Seriously, one dollar and I’m off the lease. Hell, a quarter.” He insisted. After the new android laws passed, Hank could have ‘sold’ the company to the androids fully, not that they didn’t already pretty much own it, but Simon kept ‘coincidentally’ losing the paperwork, and Connor always seemed to forget to bring it home. In truth, he was one of the few humans that oft was about and liked well enough by the people there (and he also could scare the hell out of anyone who tried to mistreat an android).

            “Come on, we have a small celebration downstairs! One of the guys even made up a thirium-infused drink that we can all put into our systems.” Josh waved.

            “I’ll stick to the coke I got from the corner store, thanks.” Hank added as they made their way out. Connor, however, hadn’t moved from looking into the tank. In fact, he got closer and had his face nearly pressed into the glass. “Connor?”

            “Thank you. Thank you all.”

            Simon nudged Hank’s shoulder. “Let’s let the dork have his fish fun. We’ll come get him later.”

            Hank smirked as Amelia took a few more pictures before she, too, left. Hank followed them out, the wonder in Connor’s face imprinted on his mind.

            Maybe he would let the kid have another pet at home, if just to see that amazement all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XD XD Let's be honest Hank really doesn't have room for more then a small fish bowl, and Connor was talking some pretty big pets.
> 
> So the office got all the fishes :D They'll have 8 because RK800. SUBMIT PRETTY FISHIES LETS FILL THE TANK!!!
> 
> PS VOLTRON IS A GREAT SHOW ON NETFLIX XD


	6. Fluff and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the Thirium Pump wants what the Thirium Pump wants, and it's not always something rational.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I really love this chapter but, after writing it, my re-write idea was just... bleh. May do an omake later on if I get inspired enough.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

            He wanted it.

            He wanted it so bad.

            Connor looked in the store window, not really caring as a few stray people crossed around him, as he stood in the sidewalk staring into the display.

            It made no sense. He was an android, a man, and yet he wanted the item in the window so bad. He adjusted the bag of groceries he was carrying – Hank was overworked this week, and Connor certainly had more energy than him, so he got the food. Except this time, Connor had decided to try a new market, a little farther away and in a different direction then the grocer they usually used.

            He’d seen the store in passing on the way there, but he’d only given it a glance as he went. The pastels in the window were a bright mark as compared to the old building they were set into, and it had been eye catching to say the least. He had a mission, no matter how innocuous, to complete, so he’d managed to focus on his path ahead. On the way back, his mind wasn’t as focused, and he’d drifted to take in the scenery.

            That’s when he saw the window once more, and he was drawn in.

            “Hello?”

            Connor didn’t jump. Androids didn’t do that. No, he just… readjusted. Yes, readjusted his settings, as he turned to see a girl leaning out the door. A quick scan of her face brought him to a local college registry, and, aside from a speeding ticket and one parking violation, she was without major crimes.

            “You ok out here? You’ve kind of been staring in the window a while.” She noted as she glanced back in. “If you’re worried about anybody throwing hands over you coming in, we don’t stand for that, and it’s clear in here.”

            Connor cocked an eyebrow. “I must apologize, but… you would throw hands? Do you have fake hands? Because if they are severed, then I must inform you that I am a member of the DPD and would have to report such.”

            The girl seemed unparsed by the image created by the android. “Uh, it’s an expression. It means ‘to fight.’ So if someone comes in and throws some racist bu- uh, crud around, I’ll ‘throw hands’ or fight for your rights. Well, I guess if you’re a cop, you’d just arrest them.”

            Connor smiled at the girl’s explanation. “Thank you, but I was just browsing.”

            She smiled and nodded. “Well, come on in if you want to look.” She turned back and returned to the inside of the store. Connor watched her through the window as she sat at the cashier’s desk, looking down at something. The store was empty aside from her.

            The android pried himself from the window, and he began to walk home. He tried to observe his surroundings once more, but he was still distracted by the object that drew his attention earlier.

            _It does not make sense though._ He thought. _It serves no purpose to me, and it is just an item._

            But then other voices began arguing in his head. _Kid, if you want it, and it’s not hurting everyone, then go for it._ Hank’s voice seemed to tell him before Markus’ joined him with a _living things are not always rational._

            Connor made it another block before he stopped, turned, and headed back in the direction he had come.

            He wanted it, and he was going to get it. 

* * *

             Hank was staring at the clock in the kitchen with a frown on his face. He was making some pancakes for dinner – they were out of a lot of stuff, ok? – and Connor wasn’t back yet. Even though the android had insisted that he didn’t need food, Hank had found out that he had an installed patch to taste and his model was one of the few that had a storage compartment for inhaled items (it was for if he’d ever need to go undercover as human, and therefore eat, but Hank knew that Connor would absolutely flop at that).

            The aging man flipped another pancake into the air as he looked at Sumo, who was busy munching away at his bowl of food. “Where you think he got off to, Sumo?” Hank made a face. “Hopefully not sticking his face in anything again.”

            Sumo popped his head up, giving a brief ‘boof.’ Hank translated that to _you and me both_ before the dog continued to eat.

            Hank tipped the last pancake off when he growled. “Ok, that’s it. I’m calling him.” Hank turned off the stove and, not caring about the batter that was on him, he made his way to his cell phone charging across the room. As he grabbed the thing and tried to get the thumb reader to register his ingredient-covered palm, the door lock clicked.

            Sumo’s head shot up before the dog abandoned his food altogether to run to the doorway. Hank sighed as a familiar chuckle and ‘easy Sumo!’ came from the entrance. Hank quickly put his phone away and pretended that he HADN’T nearly panicked over some android running late as he went back to the food.

            “Sorry for my tardiness, Hank.” Connor noted as he came in, Sumo his shadow. Connor set his bags on the table with his keys before turning back to the door to put his coat and his shoes in the small hallway closet. “I decided to walk to the new Market, and they had quite a diverse selection of local items. I selected a few vegetables that are popular this time of year for us to try.”

            Hank was a grown ass man, but he still made a face. “Just don’t burn down my fucking kitchen again.” The man insisted. Connor’s first attempt at food – without programming, cook book, or freaking Google to help – had wound up killing a microwave and two pans as well as alerting the fire department. On the bright side, they got some nicer replacement things and a new microwave.

            Hank still smirked at the embarrassment and annoyance that painted Connor’s face at the mention of the first attempts. “I have improved, if you have not noticed.” He pointed out as he re-entered the kitchen. Without being asked, he began to shelve the items. The fridge’s contents had shifted from beer and old take-out to a healthy mix of vegetables, fruit, some cold cuts and cheese for sandwiches, bread, as well as a few other basics that any person could easily handle to turn into food. Sure, there was still the occasional take-out and Hank wouldn’t go cold turkey on beer, but the beer was much less, interspaced with soda and other beverages, as well as the take-out winding up in the garbage when Connor noted its best-by date having passed.

            Connor had, indeed, picked up vegetables that the elder detective hoped he could handle, as well as the basics like bread and milk. Sumo finished his food and tried to hound Connor for treats.

            Hank smirked as he handed a plate to Connor just as he finished loading the fridge. “Hank, I do not require substance.” The android pointed out for what had to be the umpteenth time this week alone.

            The elder man rolled his eyes before grinning. “Well, if you don’t want it, I guess I could eat both… Or, hey, Su…” Hank didn’t get to finish his teasing before Connor snatched it from his hands. “Heh, figured you wanted some of my famous hot cakes.”

            Connor rolled his eyes. “I simply do not wish for you to overeat nor feed Sumo something that will potentially upset him.” He noted as he took a fork and cut up a chunk of the pancakes to eat. His face, though, seemed to melt as he tasted the gooey maple-covered breakfast food. His LED seemed to roll with a pale blue, a sure sign that Connor was happy and content.

            Only idiots hated pancakes, after all.

            Hank walked to the living room to turn on the TV when he noticed the bag sitting in the chair. It wasn’t one of the reusables that Connor had taken with him to the store, so Hank looked at it confused. “Hey, what’d you get, kid?”

            It was like lightning. One second, Connor was batting Sumo away from his food, and the next the android had the bag in his arms and was trying to hide it behind his back. “Just some… items, important for my software maintenance.”

            Hank lifted an eyebrow, instantly seeing the glow of the yellow LED. “Really now?” The man wagered. “You’re not trying to sneak a pet into the house now, are you?” He questioned as the android’s LED flickered blue.

            “Negative.” He returned. “It is… personal.”

            Hank rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “It’s not gonna blow up then?” The android nodded. “Fine. Be secretive then. I’m gonna go to the living room.” Hank nodded and went off as Connor’s shoulders dropped. Hank didn’t know what had the android’s knickers in a twist, but he wasn’t gonna pry.

            For now. 

* * *

             As it turned out, Hank didn’t even need to pry.

            Another investigation had triggered Connor’s allergy – Hank had the details of how explained to him, but he wanted the whole thing blocked from his memory because the whole situation was disgusting. This time, though, Connor had insisted that he could get home on his own and set up his own reboot. Hank had relented, especially because it was tight downtown, and he’d last seen the kid loading into a squad car with another android at the wheel.

            The case was supposed to take several more hours, but they ended up stumbling – literally – on the solution a lot faster. The man everyone thought was poisoned in an act of murder was killed by his own hand. His pipes had rusted through, and he had ignored the signs until it was too late. Things like mold lined the pipes, and Hank was sure some of them had been done incorrectly altogether, suggesting further contamination. Officer Wilson had found the destroyed pipes with the shitty patch jobs – by the vic, of course – and, with them waiting on CSI to check, it was all but a done case.

            Hank had decided to fuck the paperwork and head home to check on Connor, but, if anyone asked, he claimed that he was really just grabbing a late lunch. When the man entered his home, the shades were drawn closed in the living room as soft snores curtesy of a dog reached his ears as well as a soft buzzing not unlike that of an electrical wire. Hank padded in softly as he took in the scene.

            Connor had managed to kick off most of his clothing, but they lay in a pile at the end of the couch. He was laying down with a shirt Hank remembered throwing in the wash, the thing huge on the kid. His lower half was covered by a throw they kept on the couch as Sumo snored on Connor’s legs. Connor’s LED glowed a soft green as the android slept and cleared the errors, but something additional gave Hank pause.

            Now, normally, Connor scheduled his charging and updates around Hank’s sleep schedule, and, because he only needed a few hours on sleep mode at most, Connor was usually the last to bed and the first to rise. Hank had only seen the LED lightly at night when he got up to use the loo or something. Sometimes, he’d adjust the blanket on the kid, but it was always dark and the detective was tired. Now, in the dim mid-day light, Hank noticed something extra.

            Tucked under Connor’s un-cabled arm was a soft plushie with thick, velvety fur and squishy body. It was vaguely dog-looking, but it’s fur was a light pastel blue with big, brown eyes and a purple sewn nose. It was about a foot or so big, and it seemed to perfectly fit under the crook of Connor’s arm.

            Hank remembered back a few days now to when Connor had been so secretive over a purchase. He snorted at the ‘software stability’ note now, because he connected it to the time Connor explained how Deviancy became a thing for him. As Connor dug his face into the stuffed animal’s head, he could understand.

            For a moment, though, Hank imagined this is what Cole would be like. He was particularly attached to a bear plush, and it went everywhere Cole could take it. Even in elementary school, the kid would try to sneak it in his backpack all the time.

            Hank had made sure that the bear was with Cole in the end.

            Now, though, even as he wiped a tear away from his face, he put Cole into the scene – not as Connor, but as himself. Cole would have loved Connor, the two of them thick as thieves, even as Connor had to get an explanation about slang terms every five seconds. They’d play Cops all day, binge TV, and probably keep Hank on his toes at home and everywhere else. Connor would get them both eating better, and Hank would ground them when they did something stupid.

            He imagined his boys being boys, and, while Cole wasn’t coming back, Hank was damned if anything would happen to his other kid. Cole would have wanted them both to be happy.

            Hank adjusted the blanket and pushed some stray hairs from Connor’s head as the android muttered something in his sleep. The clock on the cable block warned him of the time, and he decided to pick up one of the pads in the kitchen to scribble a note to Connor before he left.

            _Came by to check on you. Love the dog – it suits you. Make sure to let Sumo out, and call me later._

            Hank hesitated as he wrote a _D_ , but he ended up tearing it off and, in the little space left on the page, wrote _–Hank_ as a sign off.

            He rested the slip on the coffee table for Connor to see and pat Sumo on the belly as he headed back out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment thoughts on my writing! Or comments in general! Thanks!


	7. Have Robot, Will Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus has been invited to speak at a special international event for the rights of androids across the planet, and he's bringing his best negotiator and his team organizer... and Hank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAAAA so I just want to say that I am SO SO SO GRATEFUL for all the comments on the last chapter! It was so heartwarming to read them all, and they made my day every time I did! You guys are wonderful and so supportive!
> 
> Also apologies for the long break! I had a lot going on the last week, and also I had about five different ideas on what to write. I pulled a major writer's moment and wrote half (well, a few paragraphs) of each before I had another idea and started over.
> 
> BUT I was inspired to write this guy, and I hope you all enjoy!

            Connor was nervous and excited all at the same time.

            He was sitting in an airport, Markus to one side of him as he was talking on the phone, fluctuating between hushed tones and louder clarifications. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was talking to Carl, who, despite his youthfulness, was still aging and, therefore, losing his hearing. Markus kept trying to convince his adoptive father to let the medical android, named Logan, adjust his settings but NOOOOOOO Carl was ‘hip’ and ‘with it.’

            To Connor’s other side was Hank, who was wearing the largest headphones the android had seen as he blared heavy metal to drown out the craziness around him. While he had been born in Michigan, he’d gone to university in Florida and then attended the police academy in Maryland. Hank had also done a handful of trips elsewhere, going as far as Canada and Mexico, so the chaos of the airport was old news to him.

            The last in their row was Simon, and he was frantically making sure that they hadn’t forgotten anything. Never mind that they’d had to check half their gear – the androids’ luggage had been half changes of clothes and half parts and repair kits just in case – but he had as much Thirium he could be legally get on the plane packed into the carry ons as well as a small repair kit, change of clothes, his tablet and laptop and… well, Simon was definitely the Team Mom. Josh had even given Simon a mug that had said “World’s Number One Mom” on Mother’s Day of this past May. Josh would be here to tease Simon on it, too, but leaving North alone would mean trouble. Of course, Josh was no better, but they figured that, worst case scenario, the two would balance each other out.

            And, if not, Rose (who was their designated not-babysitter) would call in Amelia to kick their asses.

            That was the hope, anyway.

            Either way, it was these four that were loading onto a plane for Paris, France, for a meeting of the United Nations, friendly nations, as well as others who employed Cyberlife for their android technology. With the rise of Deviancy, however, most nations had found themselves following the US in the last year and a half, but there were others who still attempted to keep the status quo. Androids that had yet to breach into deviancy were still held captive, used and abused, but that’s what this meeting was for. They were to discuss how the people of the world would proceed with the emergence of androids. Paris was chosen as the neutral ground as Paris had previously established laws about the treatment of androids and had adapted nearly as quickly as the United States. They still lacked in certain fields, though, which was what Markus and his people wanted to discuss now.

            Simon and Markus were, of course, part of the core of the Revolution and were to be doing most of the talking for the conference with androids of other nations also in attendance as representatives of their people. Connor was to attend as extra security for Markus as well as being moral support, and, well, Hank was cashing in on his off days whist someone else was paying for his travel. Sure, he was going to keep an eye on Markus, but he wasn’t going to turn down Paris.

            There was a chime as Connor looked up. “Passengers on flight C234 for Paris, France, we will be boarding in ten minutes. Please line up in an orderly fashion as we prepare to board.” A female voice informed them as Connor grinned, his foot tapping as he stood. He grasped his shoulder bag and a small roller, each with the materials that he’d brought per Simon’s ~~nagging~~ suggestion as well as things Hank had insisted would be important for the proper flight experience.

            Connor had never been on a flight, so he was taking all the suggestions he could.

            Androids typically didn’t fly the same way humans did. Before the revolution, androids were transported in the holds within special compartments as to not damage them. There was a small storage area on the main deck, but it was reserved for medical androids and child-rearing models with pre-approval. In the rarest of occasions, usually children flying alone or with disabled people, a seat could be purchased for half price for an android to use.

            Things were different now, though, and androids weren’t to be stored in the hold any longer.

            Markus and Simon had also been on planes before. Markus had flown on multiple occasions with Carl all over the country, and he’d always been with Carl on the flights. Simon had flown once to New York with his original family, but he’d flown in the hold (an experience he remembers and did not enjoy).

            With Connor rising, Markus stood as he tried to finish his call. “Yes, Carl, I have the… no, no, you know the rules on the… oh my god, dad, no… I’m hanging up. I’M HANGING UP! LOVE YOU LOGAN MAKE SURE HE TAKES HIS MEDS!” Markus turned off the phone and threw his head back, sighing. “Oh my RA9 my dad is just… he’s… uhg…” Markus chucked the phone into his laptop bag as he grabbed his own roller. “I love that man but… he’s so STUBBORN!”

            Simon chuckled as he stood, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Like father, like son.”

            “What is that supposed to mean?” Markus questioned as Simon walked away. Markus pouted as he chased after the tote-trotting android.

            Hank stood last, cracking his back in a stretch as he did so. “Uhg, I can’t believe I agreed to this. Eight hours in the air…” Hank bemoaned as Connor smirked.

            “Look at the bright side, Hank.” Connor smiled. “I won’t harp you on your food choices this flight.”

            Hank rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

            “I pre-ordered you a health-conscious meal.”

            “You little shit.”

            Connor chased after Markus as Hank shot him the bird. The three androids got in line in their designated area as the human of the group bemoaned and dragged his feet. It didn’t matter too much because they had the place in line. Around them, Connor recognized a few other models get in line. It was clear that most were traveling with human families and companions. One male model was holding hands with a human, the two giggling over something the human had said, as another model scrambled after a kid. Two child models, one female and the other male, hung off the arms of a human man as who Connor figured was his wife dragged a few pieces of kids luggage after them.

            Connor was jolted from his thoughts as someone bumped shoulders with him. He turned to see Markus grinning. “So, what do you want to see while we’re there?” The man asked, smile bright on his face.

            “Well, the talks being successful would be a pleasant sight, but I expect that there is about a 10% chance of getting everything we need on the first go. As it stands, though, we will likely get concessions from 60% of participating countries completely, while 35% will need further conviction and 5% may fight.” Connor informed as Simon looked over, a small laugh escaping his throat.

            “I think Markus means the sights. We have a few slots of time where we will be able to explore the city. Personally, navigating the catacombs seems interesting to me.” Simon smirked as Markus rolled his eyes.

            “I’d prefer something a little less… darkness and underground.” The RK200 model noted before he smiled dreamily. “The Louvre is my destination of choice. I’ve fantasized of seeing many of those pieces myself since Carl regaled his stories of traveling Paris while he was young.”

            Connor cocked his head to the side as he thought. He had been so caught up in doing research, planning, and the mere excitement of travel that he’d completely forgotten about the marvelous destination itself. “I… will have to think on this.”

            Markus snorted joyously. “Did you hyper focus on the summit? Connor, while this is a big event for us, it will still be a fantastic experience.” Markus threw his arm around Connor’s shoulder as he waved an arm around. “Imagine floating down the river, the waves gently rocking the boat as you sip coffee with your friends.”

            “Or, you know, someone you care for a bit more.” Simon tossed a side-long glance at Markus, and the android seemed to derive something from the look that Connor missed. Markus rolled his eyes, but Connor detected the other android’s thurium pump increase rate of movement.

            Connor wished to check what had been conveyed, but it was here that he noticed Hank was trying to sneak off towards the McDonalds at the side of the terminal. “Excuse me a moment. The Lieutenant seems to be attempting to destroy his diet and make us late to board.” Connor threw as the other two looked, laughing at Hank’s poor attempt to sneak off. The detective went after the elder man, but he did hope that he and Markus could potentially sit and talk more on the flight.

* * *

 

            Sitting down in the airplane suddenly brought an odd sensation through Connor’s electronic nervous system. He felt the earlier excitement and pride over preparation had grown into something more… nerve wracking. Logically, planes remained one of the safest form of travel, especially with the combined knowledge and control of trained pilots and basic AI technology to help detect dangers and warn the captains much more quickly than in the past. It was a system that had become tried and true over the last decade.

            And yet Connor was still running worst case scenarios in his head.

            He tried to distract his obviously illogical train of thought. He was in a window seat with Hank on the aisle, Markus and Simon seated behind them. They’d booked business class seats, so there was additional room to move and the additional amps needed for their charging onboard during sleep mode (Coach typically lacked the hook-ups necessary for charging, and being in an android storage area was a big no). Hank had been a little miffed at Connor catching his attempt to sneak off for junk food, but, once he saw their flight conditions, he was a lot happier.

            Connor began to fiddle with his quarter before he ended up snaking his hands into his backpack where he found a pouch. It was five inches by seven, plain black fabric with a silver zipper, but inside was a number of items that Connor had accumulated over time to help with his fidgeting, as Hank had referred to. He pushed to the side the ear plugs and eye mask (since his deviancy, there were times when his already enhanced senses would go overboard, and he’d need to shut out the world – he’d found a human allegory in ‘sensory overload’) as he grasped the pen at the bottom. Slate silver, the pen was not just any pen but a fidget device with buttons, spinner, and other items. Connor easily played with the coin in one hand, focusing on calibration, while the other began to work with the buttons in a practiced manner.

            A hand fell on his shoulder as the android jumped, Hank looking concerned. “You ok, kid?”

            “Just… a lapse in logical thinking.” He answered. “I am attempting to clear the error, but it is persistent in my systems.”

            Hank gave him a look that clearly said _What the fuck are you talking about?_ Connor knew this because Hank had given it to him many times, especially when he got overly technical.

            Before the inevitable question followed, Connor clarified, “I am overthinking.”

            Hank’s face cleared of confusion, but hints of concern were still there. “What are you thinkin’ bout? The conference? Because I don’t care if I’m ‘off duty’ and ‘on foreign soil,’ because I’ll kick anybody’s ass who messes with ya.”

            Connor felt his happiness swell at Hank’s support. Connor’s compassion for the man was never in question, but every one of these moments helped shut down the little voice in his head that tried to question everything deviancy meant (and it always sounded like a displeased Amanda). “I am quite fine about the conference. I have run scenarios in my head several times, and I have a 98% rate of successful protection for all that should increase to 100 once I am onsite. No, I am… being illogical about the travel there.” He glanced around the plane, scanning every nook and cranny as more people piled in.

            “Ah, first time flight jitters.” Hank nodded as his hand moved to ruffle Connor’s hair. The android made a sound of protest as he swatted the hand away. “Ya got nothing to worry about. Once we’re in the air, it’s smooth sailing until we land in Pair-y.”

            Connor tried to take comfort in the words. It seemed that Markus had noticed Connor’s nervousness and had reached through the seat to tap the android on the shoulder. The brunette turned back to look as Markus smiled. “Want to play some cards while we wait? I promise that Simon only cheats a little.”

            “I think you’re confusing me with Josh.” Simon threw back with a roll of his eyes.

            “No, Josh cheats a LOT.” Simon swatted his friend as Markus leaned to dodge.

            Soon a standard pack of cards was distributed around as a game of go fish began. Hank and Connor had to turn in their chairs awkwardly to play whist hiding their cards, but it was a good distraction. Markus and Connor both seemed to possess the superhuman ability to throw things around, so they were doing all sorts of card tricks over the chairs when cards were passed. A few eyes watched in wonder over the whole thing.

            The first game ended with Simon winning, Markus whispering about cheaters, and Connor beginning to shuffle the cards when the seatbelt sign came on. “Passengers, we are departing from the gate. Please turn off your Bluetooth and wireless devices, and any androids please enter safe flight mode. If you look onto the screen in front of you, there will be a short safety video…”

            The plane jolted as Connor quickly got the cards together and handed them back to Markus with a smile. He watched the video intently as the plane moved into taxi, and, before he knew it, the thing began to shake and move at speeds Connor had never experienced before. His hands gripped the arm rests as his seat soon went from parallel to the ground to an angle of approximately 45 degrees (the whole of the movement was throwing off his gyroscope, and the disconnect from the outside world via his internet uplink made recalibration without physical means impossible at the moment).

            Connor looked out the window as the shaking went from consistent to scattered, and his eyes were blown at the sight. Below him, the city of Detroit pulled into the distance, growing smaller and smaller the higher they got. The Cyberlife tower stood still tall and proud in the distance, having survived the revolution under the care of Kamski. The genius inventor of androids had turned his attention to not only supplying the androids with parts but also using his knowledge in new ways, and the company, while it still faced struggles, still stood.

            The larger-then-life tower shrunk, becoming something that could be smushed between Connor’s finger and thumb. It’s might seemed to wane on his mind, and soon the tower was gone completely from his field of view.

            Before Connor knew it, the plane was at cruising altitude, and Hank nudged his shoulder again. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

            Connor’s eyes never left the clouds that pooled below him, all borders disappearing as there was nothing but greenery and scattered towns below them.

            He could understand how people found flying so comforting now.

            As Connor fell back into his seat, his systems now physically readjusting his gyroscope to compensate for the speed and previous jolts, the man smiled. “Yes, I think this will be a good flight.”

            “Hey,” Markus smirked as he stood up over the seats. “Want to start another game? I have a magnetic chess board.”

            Connor returned the grin. “I have something additionally. It seemed like a colorful game that my research suggested was popular for travel. It’s called Uno.”

            Hank’s hands came together as an absolutely devious smile overtook his face. “Boys, prepare to have your asses handed to you. I am the reigning DPD king of Uno.”

            The detective turned back to his row-mate with an absolutely devious smile. “For now.”

            “Oh, it’s ON, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is obviously part one of how ever many travel stories we got. Also, hint hint I ship Markus and Connor a bit. Will it be a thing? Or will I just have Simon be a teasing little shit and Markus just being So Done with all his friends being so hot (seriously - THEY'RE ALL SO HOT #Markussaid). IDK I guess we'll see :D
> 
> Hopefully it won't take as long to post the next chapter! Until next time!


	8. Long Haul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's an eight hour flight. Shenanigans ensure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but I was thinking to myself "this is a LOONG flight... what would they even DO?"
> 
> Well. This is it.

            North was, in short, bored. Markus and Simon had left for the airport a couple of hours ago, and, while she was an independent android herself, she had a strangely quiet afternoon (what she hadn’t known was that Simon and Rose had worked out the schedule of two Jericho heads to be as light as possible in the absence of Simon and Markus).

            North sighed again as she saw Josh enter their shared office space. “Josh! Just the android I was looking for!”

            Josh lifted an eyebrow as he set a dog leash on the desk. As a favor to Connor, they were chipping in to babysit Sumo while the rest of the Andersons (yes, Hank and Connor) were in Paris. The android, however, had lost the dog to a cooing bunch of children on the way in, and now the dog was being lavished in pets and scratches by excitable tiny androids. “For… what, exactly?”

            “Well, honestly, I’d be happy if you were literally anyone. I’m BOOOOORREEEDDD…” She whined as she slumped over her chair. If she were human, her position would be incredibly uncomfortable and slightly impossible, but her series was really flexible.

            The lecturer model rolled his eyes. “Entertain yourself. There’s a TV over there, and we have internet.” He noted. Since androids now got paid for their work, they got charged for using their own data plans. Most of them didn’t require constant uplinks, so they used phones or connected to nearby androids via Bluetooth-like technology. Since they had wifi at Jerico, though, North could just connect and talk to whoever.

            She was a rebel, though, and usually just used her phone (she only connected if she needed a system update of some sort, and even than she was stubborn about ‘supporting the shit company that built us.’)

            North hummed as she slipped back into her chair like a normal robotic being. She whipped her phone from her pocket as she used her Bluetooth hookup like a thumb print, getting her in. She mindlessly flipped through the apps on the smartphone before she hit the messaging button. “Think Simon or Markus is online? Heck, even Connor could be entertaining.” She questioned as she typed out a text to them.

            Josh rolled his eyes. “They’re probably in the air right now. There’s no way-”

            North’s phone pinged.

            “…I stand corrected.”

            North stuck her tongue out as she waved her hand. “Get over here. They got free in-flight data, apparently.” She informed him as Josh dragged over his own roller chair. He slid in, bumping North’s chair, before he, too, got into the message board. Unlike the heathen, he used his internal uplink with the wifi, only holding the phone in his hand.

            _How’s the weather up there?_ North typed out.

            There was a slight delay before a reply came. _It's a /beautiful/ negative forty degrees Celsius, with minimum turbulence and clear skies._ Markus replied.

            North blew a raspberry. “I bet Connor told him to write that.”

            “If Connor wrote it, he would be serious.” Josh threw.

            “Point.” North shrugged as a separate notification entered the window.

            _The Deviant Puppy and Lieutenant Grumpy Pants have been added by SiGuy._

            Josh lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

            “What? You don’t put everyone under stupid names?” North threw.

            Josh flashed her his phone. The group message was to Simon, Markus, Lt. Hank Anderson, Connor Anderson, and… North of Sane.

            The woman flipped him off.

            The man threw her a look. “Prove me wrong.”

            “Suck a dick.”

            “Only if you do first.”

            A ping broke up their spat. _Hello? Stop fighting and shower me with affection!_ Simon wrote.

            _Why the fuck am I included?_ Hank wrote.

            _I, too, am confused._ Connor added. _Although it is closer to negative forty-three Celsius outside as of now._

            “Thanks for the clarification, Connor.” Josh mumbled as he typed. _But, seriously, how is the plane?_

 _Fucking fantastic_  Hank wrote in response.

            _The in-flight services are quite adequate._ Connor wrote.

            _I’ll say. I lost my seat to fucking robo jesus._ The lieutenant wrote.

            “What the fuck?” North muttered. _I thought the seats were assigned?_

 _They are._ Simon wrote back. _But Connor and Markus wanted to cuddle._

 _We are not cuddling._ Markus responded. _I simply switched with Hank in order to play chess with Connor less awkwardly then over the seats._

 _Then they chose to cuddle while watching a movie._ Hank threw.

            _We wished to watch a movie together as neither of us has seen it, and I had a splitter._ Connor wrote.

            Simon sent a picture. It was taken over the seat to show Markus leaning on Connor’s shoulder as the two had earbuds in. Ahead of them on the seat in front of Connor, there was a little touch screen TV playing _Big Hero 6_.

            _Adorable_ North wrote followed by a bunch of heart and puppy emojis.

            _It’s sickening._ Hank threw in.

            Markus sent a picture. It was a clear picture of Markus’ hand in a very rude gesture.

            North gasped. “I can’t believe he did that in front of the baby!”

            “Who?”

            “Connor, duh.”

            The man lifted an eyebrow.

            North glared back.

            There was a ping.

            The picture was a laughing Simon with Markus looking over, finger still risen half way in the form of a middle finger. Connor looked like he was red as a tomato – his advanced infiltration program kicking in to show off his emotions that were not stimulated – as Hank threw his hand over his eyes and looked a cross between exasperated and amused.

            “I shoulda gone.”

            “Same.”

* * *

             Hank frowned down at the plate in front of him. “What the fuck is this crap?”

            “Chicken with a spice rub, rice, steamed veggies, and fruit for desert.” Connor reported from over the chair. Markus gave an absolutely Cheshire grin as he sipped on his juice. Markus, like Connor, was an experimental model, and he’d been one of the first to have basic taste. His system could also convert most drinks to water in order to cool his system.

            Simon, meanwhile, was with a Thirium pack as he looked at the food. He scanned it over with an approving nod. “Appropriate for a person of your age with heightened blood pressure.”

            “My blood pressure is through the roof because of you idiots, specifically that one right there.” Hank pointed to Connor, who looked over the seat. “Every time he licks something questionable or yeets himself into danger, I die a little.”

            Connor kept a neutral face. “I am preforming a preliminary scan.”

            “What the fuck? On what?”

            “On you. I am checking your levels.”

            “Oh don’t you fuck-”

            “Complete.” Connor reported. “Your levels of bullshit are elevated.”

            Markus threw his head back as he laughed whist Simon choking on the thirium. Connor had the brightest smile on his face, and Hank looked simultaneously proud and so done.

* * *

             Markus looked at Connor like he was a godsend. Light shown around him like an angel from heaven, and, RA9 help him, he loved the man.

            “Thank you so much.” Markus sighed as he grabbed the earplugs and shoved them into his ears. Instantly, the last of the baby screaming that he hadn’t been able to block out was diminished, and the buzzing feedback in his head from the unpleasant auditory sound cut off.

            Hank already wore earplugs that Connor had supplied whist Simon was shoving his offered items into his ears, a sigh escaping his throat as he did so. The detective android himself had a smile, glad he had researched possible hazards of long-term flights and packed accordingly.

            Including the hazard of screaming babies and the additional ear plugs added to his bag.

* * *

             “So precious.” Simon reported as he and Markus were now back in their assigned seats. Hank had fallen asleep about an hour ago, as per Simon’s suggestion to minimize jet lag, and Connor had fallen into sleep mode after plugging in to charge. Connor’s LED circled green, and it only took a little jolt of turbulence before Connor was snuggled on Hank’s shoulder. The android seemed perfectly at peace with the situation, and Hank even moved in his slumber haze to pull a blanket around Connor before slipping back into REM. The lieutenant snored slightly as Connor muttered about dogs.

            Markus was already moving to take a picture. “I’m sending this to everyone. Revenge on Hank for the cuddle comments.” Markus turned to Simon. “You’re on my hit list next.”

            “Like hell you’d survive a week without me.”

            “Oh I won’t kill you, but maiming is still in the books.”

            “It’s times like these where I do this.” Simon threw up his phone to show a picture of Connor. Connor was looking up from the floor as he cuddled Sumo, eyes wide with innocence and bliss. The caption was “Do you really want to disappoint this face?”

            Markus glared. “This is blackmail.”

            “This is leverage.”

            Connor snorted. “This is lemons.”

            The two androids stared at the third as he snuggled into Hank’s shoulder. His LED still circled green.

            “What the fuck, Connor.” Simon whispered in wonder. “How are you so adorable and so awkward at the same time?” 

* * *

             Hank groaned as he looked at the tiniest cup of coffee he’d ever seen in his life. “As soon as we land, I’m getting the biggest cup of coffee that I can find.” The human bemoaned as he downed the cup. “Also this stuff is shit – worse than the precinct even.”

            Connor sipped the coffee, making a face. “Yes, it seems… poor in taste. I will also refrain from mentioning the finer components of the drink.”

            “Fucking-A Connor, I drank the damn thing!” Hank threw with a glare. “If I get sick and die, it’s your fault.”

            “I assure you, the worse that could happen is a bit of food poisoning.” The android rolled his eyes. “But most likely will be an upset digestive system.”

            Markus was still in sleep mode as Simon groaned. “Are we there yet?” The android questioned as he flipped through the screens. It was an hour until landing, and he was so ready to be off the plane.

            As much as he loved these nerds, he’d spent far too long cooped up in this plane with them.

* * *

             When the plane landed in de Gaulle international airport, there was a small round of claps for the successful flight, a tradition in many European flights. The Americans onboard joined, some confused and others used to it. The plane was slowly taxied into the gate before the seat belt sign was turned off.

            Soon the thin corridor between seats filled with passengers all attempting to get off the plane to their destinations of choice. Hank yawned as he pushed his loose, somewhat greasy hair back from his face. It had been a long ride, and he needed a nap. Connor’s usually-kept curls were now loose of their normal hold and would require a mirror to organize correctly. Simon looked still tired, having not completed his charge cycle as planned because of some stupid update. Markus was the only one who looked fully awake, and even he was just bouncing to get off the plane.

            They collected their carry-ons and were soon cattled out only to meet a couple of men in official-looking suits at the gate. Connor used facial recognition to find them in Interpol’s systems as two mid-tier agents, which they corroborated by showing their identification cards to the four. “The Prime Minister wanted to ensure that nothing happened on the way into Paris. We have a car waiting for you out front.” One of the agents noted in accented English. Connor and Markus had each downloaded some basic conversational French for the event, but Simon had the whole of the language added to his system. Hank, however, lacked anything beyond ‘do you speak English?’ and, much to Connor’s annoyance, was ‘where’s the bar?”

            It was a short walk, led by the agents, to passport control, and, once they had their identification scanned and stamped, Connor felt a surge of excitement hit him.

            He was in France, officially, and it was something he would have never done as a machine.

            But he was alive, and he was about to find himself in a new wonder of the world.

            He couldn’t stop smiling as he spun to take it all in…

            …and scan everyone and thing to ensure that no one fucked it all up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY LANDED!!! LET THE FRENCH SHENANIGANS COMMENCE! Also IDK if they get free data in business or first class but it's hella expensive according to Google so they probs do in 203X.
> 
> Comments feed the plot bunnies! Thanks for reading!


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